And what if the Indians had renounced their rights and the patróns had been appeased by the promise that everything would stay as it was?

“We must speak to Pedro Gonzalez Winiktón. He can set us straight.”

Neither César nor Ulloa knew where to find him. They started walking aimlessly. The Chamula men, wearing hats sumptuously decorated with ribbons, heavy black wool serapes and high leather sandals, stood respectfully to one side to make way for them. Many of them hid a bottle of liquor among their clothing; others suspended their work weaving palm leaves together. They gave no impression of feeling alarm or animosity because a pair of Caxláns was circulating among them. They probably knew who Ulloa and Santiago were, though none of them made any sign of recognition.

The women conceded them no more than a sidelong glance. They remained absorbed in their work of caring for the belongings they had brought to trade, the objects that would be used in the ceremonies. Many of the children were dressed as angels, with white robes and paper crowns on their heads. They were the ones who most aroused the outsiders’ curiosity, and they were also the ones who watched the outsiders with the most astonishment and went along behind them, snickering into their hands, imitating the foreigners’ words and gestures.

Though the mockery made them uncomfortable, Fernando and César didn’t let their irritation show. Mainly to rid themselves of their followers, they moved toward the church, whose doors were thrown wide open.

They paused for an instant on the threshold, so forcefully were they assaulted by the smell of flowers, burnt resin, burning wax, a compact and sweating multitude.

They could hardly move forward between the bodies seated or stretched out on the ground. The women were enraptured in an uninterrupted psalmody; the men had fallen to the ground in fatigue or drunkenness. The children were entertaining themselves by braiding the pine needles that served as a carpet.

In the center of the church, enclosed by a wooden railing and covered with wild orchids, lay an image of Christ with his hands crossed on his breast and the pale, sharp profile of a dying man.

Protecting him, at his head and feet, were two crossed rifles and four men wearing their bandanas across their chests like cartridge belts.

Fernando wanted to communicate his unease to César. What did those weapons mean? Was this a custom that was simply being repeated this year? Or were the Chamulas exhibiting them today to demonstrate their warlike mood? Fernando was brutally pushed away by the guards of the Holy Sepulcher when he tried to approach them.